


Outside The Lines

by extraordinary



Category: Free!
Genre: Body Paint, Edging, Implied Switching, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin isn't even ticklish — what's the big deal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside The Lines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aenya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenya/gifts).



> This is my (very late) submission for SAKURATHON 2015. Yes, _2015_. 
> 
> Please be aware of slight internalised homophobia & gender role discussion — but nothing major and ultimately largely inconsequential.
> 
> CONTAINS: 78% PWP (main ingredient: edging), 10% body painting (many liberties taken), 2% lewd conduct (in public), 1% awkward discussion of gender roles, 3% even _more_ awkward discussion of homophobic themes, and 6% ridiculous descriptions of Haru's terribly pretty manhood.
> 
> ETA: If you are a little confused about the set-up of the lockers/changeroom area while reading the first scene, please scroll down to the end notes! :) I also added a little information about the ~materials~ Haru uses, for those who are curious about that kind of thing.

Rin very nearly trips over his own two feet in his haste to find an empty changeroom. In fact, he only just about manages to successfully regain his balance in time for a barefaced Haru to neatly shoulder past him (without so much as a hint of an apology, of course). His embarrassment is mercifully short-lived, though, because he soon finds himself needing to skid to an abrupt halt in front of what's simply _100%_ _guaranteed_ — at this particular time of day, anyhow — to be the sole unoccupied stall left in the seemingly endless row of plastic doors surrounding them.

By the time he's carelessly thrown the wet lump of their combined swim caps down on the narrow little bench inside and has hurriedly slammed the door on the other side shut (before anyone lurking in the connecting hallway can even think about claiming temporary ownership of the vacant cubicle from their end of things), he's already forgotten all about his momentary bout of self-consciousness.

It's a real competitive world out here, y'know?

Sheepishly ignoring the startled grunt from one of the neighbouring stalls in favour of checking up on Haru's progress, Rin leans forward just far enough to rest the majority of his chest against the refreshingly cool surface of the remaining open door. "What's keeping you so long, _sweetheart_?" He drawls teasingly, on nothing more than an impulse, as he purposefully pushes the wet strands of his fringe out of his eyes (in order to cock a freshly exposed eyebrow at Haru's undeniably entertaining antics). For good measure, he adds: "Don't tell me you're too distraught over your loss to remember the security code."

"What 'loss' are you talking about, Rin...?" Haru fires back without missing a single beat, all the while fiddling impatiently with the keypad of the locker they'd been forced to share in their earlier rush to get into the water as quickly as humanly possible. "It was a _tie_."

Rin snorts, unable to keep himself from rolling his eyes despite the inescapable fact that Haru isn't even paying him enough attention to notice. The spotlights above their heads, he realises suddenly, are surrounded by a faint rainbow-like halo — courtesy of the the high humidity in the air and the stubborn drops of water still clinging to his eyelashes, most likely. "Uh huh..." He scoffs, albeit a little distractedly, and reluctantly draws his gaze away from the ceiling in order to fix Haru with a knowing leer. " _Sure._ You just keep telling yourself that, Haru."

As if able to sense Rin's gesticulations through the mere tone of his voice alone, Haru's scowl deepens significantly. He huffs out an irritated breath, before making yet _another_ amusing attempt to punch in the correct code. "These things never work properly. Why couldn't we have gone back to that short course pool you took me to last time?"

"That one's barely bigger than your bath tub! There's no fucking way we can have a proper race in such —"

"It'd work to your advantage, though," Haru briskly interrupts him, then, bouncing on the heels of his feet in undisguised relief when the blinking red light at the bottom of the keypad _finally_ morphs into a bright green. "Your turns are still more powerful than mine."

"They're not going to be for much longer, you know?" Rin points out, unflinchingly watching Haru's displeased profile disappear behind the dull grey door of the locker as it swings open. "Not if you work some of those drills I showed you into your routine. Besides, the wall can only ever get you so far."

True to form, Haru neither agrees or disagrees with Rin's statement.

It looks like they've reached _another_ stalemate. In an effort to make the most out of the unexpected ceasefire he's been handed, Rin wordlessly holds out his arms to receive their backpacks and shoes without waiting to be prompted (and then proceeds to artlessly drop everything down in a pile on the floor of their increasingly cramped little stall, which no doubt ruins the effect Rin was originally aiming for quite a bit). Once he's done with that, he pointedly takes a seat on the sad excuse for a bench inside — and _waits_.

Nobody pays them any mind when Haru follows him into the cubicle and quickly closes the door behind him with a muttered: "It's too crowded here."

Rin isn't sure if Haru is talking about the pool or the changing facilities (or both), so he decides to ignore the complaint and focuses instead on soothingly sliding his arms around the deceptively slim waist in front of him — fingertips easily slipping underneath the waistband of Haru's damp swimsuit as soon as its owner grudgingly takes a step forward into the loose embrace.

The ever present cacophony of noises around them seems to grow distant and strangely muffled as Rin's hands gradually work their way deeper and deeper underneath the wet fabric, fondly squeezing the warm globes of Haru's ass and the flawlessly toned muscle of the back of his thighs as they make their way further down. The action slowly but surely drags Haru's swimsuit along for the ride (regardless of the stubborn way it seems to want to cling to his body like a second skin). Rin finds himself oddly sympathetic to its plight, though. In fact, he's almost beginning to feel regretful when his roaming hands inevitably reach Haru's ankles.

"Don't you think this place has its perks, though?" He points out as soon as he's finished removing the garment completely. He pauses, then, and takes a moment to simply breathe in the heady mixture of familiar scents clinging to the freshly bared skin of Haru's thighs before getting up from his seat and collecting an appreciative kiss for all of his troubles. Shakily exhaling into Haru's welcoming mouth, he blindly hangs up the spoils of his victory — in the form of Haru's steadily dripping jammers, that is — on one of the plastic little hooks attached to the wall behind him. The likelihood of anyone overhearing his words _and_ simultaneously possessing enough knowledge of the Japanese language to actually understand them is extremely small, and this heartening thought gives him the necessary courage to voice the one thing that has been eating at him all day long. "I'm going to miss this. I'm going to miss **_you_**."

Effortlessly taking charge of their open-mouthed kiss(es), Haru sets about returning the favour by unceremoniously shoving Rin's legskins a good couple of inches down his hips. "The team try-outs are only a couple of months away," He breathes hotly into Rin's mouth — then gives Rin's bottom lip an almost unbearably gentle little parting tug with his teeth, before regretfully creating a slightly more respectable distance between them to grab a towel from the front pocket of his backpack. "We'll be wearing the same jerseys before you know it, Rin."

Rin lets himself be undressed and towelled off without protest, savouring the instant rush of affection Haru's rare but infectious enthusiasm never fails to leave in its wake, and simply takes the time to enjoy the freedom Australia's rather lax changing room culture affords them. They'd never get away with this kind of behaviour at a public pool back home in Japan — but out here in Sydney, he'd honestly be surprised if anyone even noticed the extra set of feet through the gap between the floor and the bottom of the walls of their cubicle at all.

And if anyone _did_ notice it, well, they'd probably just assume that these particular two pairs of feet are attached to two impatient friends who happened to be in too much of a rush to wait for a second stall to open up. It wouldn't be very far from the truth, after all.

Either way, this kind of thing really isn't a big deal around here. Rin, himself, has certainly seen more than his fair share of suspicious changeroom sharers (in a wide variety of crowded Australian swimming pools and beaches) during his years of swimming under Coach Brown's tutelage.

_A lot more._

"Hey," He begins, involuntarily breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them in a bid to catch an endearingly engrossed Haru's undivided attention. "Wasn't that my line, just now...?"

"You _have_ been rubbing off on me lately," Haru distantly agrees, softly skirting the pad of a towel-covered thumb up the length of Rin's flaccid cock. A private little smile is tugging the corners of his mouth upwards — and his eyes are positively sparkling with implication. Who knew Nanase Haruka, of all people, had it in himself to be _ **such a fucking charmer**? _ "I'll be snapping the strap of my go —."

"H-Haru...!"

"Yeah?"

Rin swallows audibly in an attempt to relocate his voice, suddenly feeling acutely _aware_ of the feather-soft caress of Haru's touch lingering at the hairless (and incredibly sensitive) base of his cock. "That tickl—"

"It doesn't."

"All right," Rin admits, if a little reluctantly. "OK. It _doesn't_."

"It's not getting you hard either," Haru points out faux-helpfully, then, and — as if to further make his case — proceeds to equally unhelpfully draw a series of perfectly _innocent_ little heart-like shapes around Rin's belly button with the hemmed edge of the towel. "I'm just making sure I haven't missed a spot. That's all."

" _Yet._ " Rin warns, and makes a significant effort to ignore the way a disobedient muscle in his lower abdomen visibly twitches underneath Haru's ministrations. It's nothing short of a miracle that certain _other_ parts of his anatomy aren't sharing the same fate yet, really.

Haru merely shoots him an infuriatingly composed look (as if he actually believes there's nothing unseemly about his actions at all), before abruptly directing his gaze downward. Rin can't help it. His eyes are already following along after Haru's example long before the rest of him can catch up with the urge to do so. Together they solemnly track the steady movements of the towel in between their bodies, breathing in an out in a strangely synced pattern, until Haru eventually breaks the spell with a far-away: "You really aren't ticklish at all, are you...?"

Firmly stuck in an unexpected Haru-induced daze as he is, Rin can only continue to answer truthfully. "It's just the soles of my feet, I guess? I've never really thought about it before."

Haru makes what sounds like the very beginning of a thoughtful humming noise in response, but quickly cuts himself off by leaning forward to capture Rin's lips in a surprisingly vehement kiss. By the time he pulls away again, they're both breathing rather heavily — and, to Rin's further surprise, an unmistakably determined little frown has made itself at home in between Haru's eyebrows.

"There's something I'd like to do when we get back to your place," Haru says quietly, then, in a frustratingly unreadable — if a little hoarse — tone of voice. "Can we stop by a drugstore on the way there?"

 

* * *

 

Haru tells him to wait outside, so of course that's what Rin — rather grudgingly, mind you — ends up doing.

There's nothing _visibly_ different about Haru's appearance at all when he reappears at Rin's side a couple of minutes later, but Rin suspects he's clutching the strap of his bag just a little more tightly now. Whatever it is he'd so clandestinely purchased in there, it must be small and sturdy enough to discreetly fit inside.

Rin's the first to leave the patch of shade the shop's awning provides its potential customers, self-consciously running the fingers of one hand through the sweaty hair at his nape (and tugging the rim of his cap further down with the other) as he steps back out into the unforgiving rays of the sun. "Ready to go, then?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you didn't even get me anything to drink while you were in there," Rin mutters, eyeing Haru balefully from underneath the navy-coloured shelter of his cap, and sets off on their course without further ado. "Don't you think that's a little cold, Nanase?"

Haru merely shoots him an unimpressed glance in return, as if to say, _'Can't you wait until we get to your place? You're pretty high-maintenance, Rin.'_ with nothing more than the reproachful line of his mouth.

Rin decides to consider the outcome of this particular argument a draw, as well.

 

* * *

 

His current room-mate — born and raised in Perth, the sunny set of FINA's World Championships in 1998 — isn't scheduled to fly back in for another day or three, but Rin locks the door of his bedroom behind them just in case.

As expected, Haru doesn't even bother to look up at the tell-tale _click_ of the key being turned. Instead, he sets about retrieving his damp towel and jammers from the confines of his bag and proceeds to unashamedly stretch both out across the set of push-up bars Rin keeps near the foot of his bed. When he's done with that, he wordlessly places his bag down in between the headboard and Rin's pillow.

Rin finds himself needing to swallow _something_ down before he can entirely trust himself to speak again. "You never waste any time, do you?"

Haru finally deigns to look up at him, then, effortlessly pinning Rin right to his spot on the carpeted floor with an unsettlingly calculating stare. "You wouldn't have locked the door if you weren't —"

"—Yeah," Rin interjects, ignoring the urge to swallow again. He doesn't particularly want to hear the end of Haru's sentence — it's fucking embarrassing, having the hypocrisy of his words pointed out so forwardly like that. He might be living in Australia right now, but he's still undeniably Japanese at heart. "You're right, Haru."

If Haru's bothered by Rin's roundabout way of conceding ground, he certainly doesn't show it. He merely takes a seat on the bed, then gives the sheets next to him a couple of purposeful taps of his hand. "I haven't even shown you what I bought yet."

The reminder that Haru's feeling just as brittle — on the inside, as Nagisa would say — as Rin is at the moment, is what ends up giving Rin the necessary push to put his hang-ups aside. "Something tells me you're about to rectify that," He semi-guesses, about as casually as he can manage right now, and obligingly makes himself comfortable at Haru's side without requiring any further coaxing. "Or are you just going to spring it on me halfway through?"

Haru immediately levels him a scathing glare (but cooperatively reaches behind Rin in order to fish the items he'd purchased out of his bag, nonetheless). "I wouldn't do that," He protests, just as he's about to unceremoniously tip the contents of his hand over into Rin's lap. Then, rather uselessly, he adds: "This time."

Rin lets Haru drop everything into the little valley between his thighs without complaint, opting to bite his tongue in favour of inspecting the objects he's being entrusted. There's _four_ items in total. Three of them are remarkably similar in shape, size and colour — only the last one is significantly thinner and longer than the others. They all bear the same brand name and logo. Rin doesn't immediately recognise it, but something about the cursive lettering looks pretty damn pricey.

He _does_ recognise the nature of the items, though. Heaven knows he's certainly spent enough time in his little sister's room to have acquired a rough idea of what they're commonly used for, after all.

"Make-up?" He hears himself ask, unable to keep the surprise from colouring his voice. He doesn't know what he'd been expecting, exactly — but he knows it definitely isn't _this_. "You made me wait outside while you went and bought a bunch of French cosmetics...?!"

Haru's earlier frown, Rin finds, has morphed into something uncharacteristically uncertain along the way. "It's probably not what you're thinking."

"I'm not sure _what_ I'm thinking, to be honest," Rin distractedly allows, curiously picking up what appears to be the lightest shade of lipstick within Haru's little collection for closer inspection. " _'Insatiable Ivory'..._?"

"It's not for your face."

"The labels on these would beg to differ," Rin argues, practically on auto-pilot, as he looks over the next two shades: _'Desirable'_ and _'Intense Nude'_. All of the colours Haru'd picked up are surprisingly subdued, though — none of them come even close to the bright, obnoxious red one would expect to see guys their age buy for their girlfriends. "What _else_ could you possibly use this stuff for, then? I'm pretty sure these things are called lipstick and eyeliner for a reason, Haru."

"It's not for **_your_** face," Haru repeats, sounding like he's nearing the end of his tether. "I just want to draw something on your skin, that's all. Make-up is perfect for that."

"Why...?!"

"Be- _cause_ ," Haru snaps — nostrils flared and eyes narrowed into thin blue slits, in a way that probably shouldn't be making Rin feel nearly so turned-on. He breaks himself off abruptly, there, before continuing more calmly: "You're not even ticklish, Rin. What's the big deal?"

That's got to be the _weirdest fucking excuse_ Rin has ever heard him utter, but it gets the job done remarkably well. "I — I suppose there isn't one," He grudgingly admits. "You'll help me get it off again later, right?"

 

* * *

 

Haru takes the time to hang Rin's legskins and towel up to dry on the rubber handlebars of the — second-hand, mind you — home trainer in the corner of the room, then retrieves an old sheet from the bottom of the wardrobe and dutifully spreads it out across the centre of the mattress. Still feeling a touch wrong-footed, Rin attempts to make himself useful by moving Haru's bag to the floor and filling the now empty space there with a box of tissues and a small bottle of water-based lubricant. Just in case, y'know?

They meet, in an absolute tangle of lips and limbs, on the bed.

Rin's shirt is removed first. Haru's follows soon after, along with both of their belts and shorts. Haru makes no move to take off Rin's underwear, so Rin simply does it for him — just in time to catch the breathless, _"I want to watch you get hard,"_ Haru emphatically grunts into the skin of his collar bone.

It's a request that is easy enough for Rin to grant, really, so he obligingly spreads his legs (in order to make more room for an endearingly eager Haru). "D'you want to —"

"— _Yes._ "

Haru practically _croaks_ the word, hurriedly peeling himself away from Rin's chest in favour of sitting back on his haunches. He wastes no time in wrapping the fingers of his dominant hand around Rin's soft cock, giving it a couple of encouraging little squeezes as it starts to twitch to life underneath his keen gaze.

To no one's surprise, it only takes a handful of seconds for Haru to expertly coax Rin into a pleasant 'half-mast' state (despite the fact that he'd already sucked Rin off extremely enthusiastically earlier that day).

Rin's eyes flutter shut, all of their own accord, as Haru slowly drags his foreskin up and down over the sensitive ridge of his glans for as long as possible. He can't seem to properly open them again until the mattress suddenly dips noticeably underneath Haru's weight — and even then, all he can do is watch in a daze as Haru shifts closer to place a triumphant little kiss down on the now completely exposed skin of the head.

"H-Haru," He breathes, appreciatively running a hand through Haru's dark mop of hair as soon as he is able to move again. "Let me see you, too?"

Haru simply blinks up at him for a second, as if he's having trouble parsing Rin's sentence together in his head. "I'm already pretty hard, though."

Rin's mouth goes completely dry (even though he'd already known that would be the case). "So?" He begins, pausing halfway to lick his lips. "I want to see how turned on you got just by watching me. Humour me, OK? I _know_ you're not shy about these things."

Haru complies with a long-suffering sigh, grudgingly drawing back just far enough for him to be able to shove his briefs down over his hips and kick them off of the bed entirely. "Happy now, Rin?"

"Yeah," Rin admits easily enough, because it's true — he definitely _is._ Haru's erect cock is just as gorgeous as the rest of him: just a little curved towards his stomach; a nice average size all around; and the last inch or two underneath the glans are a significantly lighter colour than its base, in an oddly mouth-watering way Rin's never seen so pronounced on any other uncircumcised dick before. And Rin has seen _quite_ a lot of those in various states, as a former swim club captain of an all-boys school. Or, y'know, on porn sites. "D'you want me to get you there all the way?"

Haru nods. "Together?"

"Sure."

Rin obligingly motions Haru closer, lifting his legs up in a clear invitation for Haru to slot their hips together (as well as their current position allows). Haru gets the idea satisfying quickly, eagerly scooting nearer until Rin is able to comfortably rest the backs of his thighs on the front of Haru's own. "Good?" He asks, blindly reaching for the lubricant near the headboard. "We haven't done it this way since before you moved to Tokyo, right? It feels kind of nostalgic."

"It was around late December then, too."

Rin chuckles (effectively drowning out most of the the wet little noises the nearly empty bottle makes as a small dose of its contents hits the palm of his hand). "You seriously keep track of that kind of stuff?"

One of Haru's shoulders twitches upwards in a half-hearted, and mainly aborted, excuse for a shrug. "Not really," He finally offers, just as Rin's reaching out to wrap his fingers around his cock. His hips stutter rather gratifyingly just a split-second later. "It's just that you made it pretty hard for me to forget what happened on New Year's day."

Rin's face instantly heats up in embarrassment. "It was pretty memorable for me as well, y'know?" He points out, surprised when his voice _doesn't_ come out sounding painfully high-pitched, then hastily occupies himself with the well-timed task of spreading out a good layer of sticky lubricant all over Haru's erection — and repeating the process on himself a moment later. "Despite how sore I was all through that awful shrine visit Nagisa and Gou forced everyone to go on together."

"Growing pains," Haru asserts calmly, completely unaffected by Rin's rapidly rising mortification. "You've loosened up a lot since then, Rin. You don't even cry any —"

"Do you _really_ want to risk finishing that sentence while I've still got my hand so close to your dick, Haru...?"

 

* * *

 

Even though Rin had kindly offered to do most of the heavy lifting by himself this time, Haru insistently bats his hands away from their joined cocks as soon as he notices Rin's already beginning to leak quite a fair amount of pre-cum. Rin reluctantly allows Haru to guide his arms down the mattress — and swallows all of the knee-jerk protests threatening to bubble up from his heaving chest when Haru then proceeds to give his wrists a surprisingly sharp squeeze before letting go, too.

Instead, he simply holds still while Haru sits back on his haunches and fixes Rin with an uncharacteristically unguarded gaze. "Rin," He eventually starts, after an almost painfully long pause. "Is this OK? I can't focus when you're touching me."

"'Focus'?" Rin echoes dumbly. "D'you wanna try running that by me again...?"

"I can tell you're getting closer," Haru elaborates, in an enviably — or irritatingly, depending on how you look at it — deadpan tone of voice. "I want to watch you when it happens."

For the second time in an alarmingly short time, Rin's cheeks heat up like a furnace.

 

* * *

 

Haru gets _exactly_ what he wants, in the end.

Of course he does.

Rin comes with a choked, broken little gasp — involuntarily arching his back so violently that one of his knees nearly hits the side of Haru's neck as a result. Completely unperturbed, as usual, Haru effortlessly nudges him back down to the mattress with a firm grip on his hip. "I've got you," He tells Rin confidently. "Just ride it out, Rin."

Once Rin has been successfully coaxed back into his original sprawl on the bed, Haru calmly continues to pet and stroke him through the powerful aftershocks of his orgasm. Rin lets him do that, as well, but can't quite resist the urge to turn his face away — and squeeze his eyes tightly shut, for good measure — when Haru unabashedly begins to lick his hands clean.

It's no use, though.

Haru's heated gaze remains imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, much like it'd been drawn there in permanent blue ink — by none other than Haru himself, no less — and promises to stay there forever (if that's what it must do for Rin to grow accustomed to its presence).

 _'You've completely ruined me,'_ Rin wants to tell him, then. _'Did you know that? Once you're through with me, there isn't going to be anyone else who could ever hope to reach the bar you've set. How's that even fair, Haru? You can be such an asshole sometimes.'_

What comes out instead is an embarrassingly hoarse: "It's your turn."

"Later."

Rin reluctantly forces his eyes open, at that. "Huh?"

Haru looks up from where he's wiping down Rin's stomach with a handful of tissues. He appears to have made himself comfortable at Rin's side, the lower part of his back braced against the wall for stability, and doesn't look like he intends to move away any time soon. "Pass me the lipstick?" He asks, as casually as if he were talking to Rin about his noisy neighbours back in Tokyo (or a particularly promising adjustment Rei'd been wanting to him make to his training schedule). "The darkest one first. _'Extreme Nude'_?"

" _'Intense'_ ," Rin automatically corrects, before he can think better of it — and then actually hands the requested shade over, too. "It's called _'Intense Nude'_ , Haru."

Haru nods agreeably. His fingertips lightly brush the palm of Rin's hand as he accepts the offered item. "I like this shade," He decides. "It's going to contrast well with your skin."

"What exactly are you planning on drawing on me, anyway?"

As expected, Haru doesn't take pity on him at all. The serene little smile tugging the corner of his lips upwards doesn't wither at all in the face of Rin's unimpressed glower. "You really can't guess at all, Rin?"

 

* * *

 

Haru starts by softly touching the very tip of the coloured, waxy substance to the pale skin directly underneath Rin's belly button. He peers down at it for a second, before quickly repeating the process another four times (until he's left what _looks_ like an oddly-shaped circle of squiggly little dots on the canvas of Rin's abdomen).

He pauses there, as if momentarily lost in thought, until he suddenly nods to himself and begins to — seemingly at random — place a whole bunch of the same five-legged little circles all over Rin's chest and stomach. His free hand never falters in it's steady _up_ and _down_ along the inside of Rin's right arm, as if he has to continuously remind himself that Rin is still **_there_**.

Rin is real. Rin is a living, breathing presence underneath his talented hands. Rin is letting him do this, to his heart's content, without complaint. Rin isn't going to attempt to move away, unless Haru tells him it's OK to do so. Rin is still shamefully malleable, pleasantly loose-limbed... and so utterly _content_ to let Haru colour him in any way he fucking pleases.

Rin finds that he doesn't dislike the thought nearly as much as he once thought he would.

 

* * *

 

 _'Desirable'_ is next on the list: it's a warm, almost peach-like kind of hue. Haru uses it to colour in all of the spaces he'd left in between each little cluster of dots.

It's painfully obvious now. The design Haru is (slowly but surely) painting into his skin, that is.

Rin's chest suddenly feels a couple of sizes too small — and if it's already too cramped to contain the overwhelming affection flooding Rin's entire existence at the moment, how in the world is Haru planning on fitting a whole branch of cherry blossoms on there?

 

* * *

 

"What's the last one called again?"

" _'Insatiable Ivory'_ ," Rin helpfully reminds him — without missing a beat — as if he'd actually _signed up_ for the role of lipstick connoisseur in this relationship. "Does that mean you're finished with the other one, now?"

Haru nods, holding out his hand to receive the next tube of lipstick from Rin. "Why would it be called _that_? This doesn't resemble ivory at all."

It's true.

Its actual colour kind of reminds Rin of the lightly tanned skin at the top of his father's large, enviably powerful fisherman's hands.

Fortunately — or **_un_** _fortunately_ , depending on how you look at it — a sudden onslaught of childhood memories appears to be more than enough to effectively chase Rin out of his comfort-zone, because what comes out of his mouth next actually manages to startle them both: "I think it'd look good on you."

Wait a minute.

Is that _really_ what he wants...?! And is it even all right for him to suggest that kind of thing in the first place?

Haru might've been the one who actually went and bought the make-up — and he certainly didn't appear to have any qualms about _that_ , did he? — but he's yet to show any indication of wanting to put it to its original use. Rin knows Haru doesn't give a fuck about gender roles (or any other societal norms, for that matter), but there's still plenty of other possible hang-ups he could have about getting a bunch of coloured wax painted onto his face. Rin's pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate it very much himself, to be honest.

Much to his credit (and Rin's utter relief), though, Haru merely lets his initial surprise roll off of him like drops of water on a duck's back. "Do you want to put it on me?" He asks, evenly enough — although the effect's kind of ruined by the breathy quality of his voice. The loveable weirdo actually seems to be rather _intrigued_ by the idea. "You could, if you wanted to — I don't mind."

Rin gives himself a moment to mull _that_ over in his head, before carefully settling on a response. "You know it's not going to be the quite same thing you've been doing with it so far, don't you? How are you so unfazed by all of this, Haru?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Haru counters instantly, somehow managing to make his words sound far more like a statement than a question, and firmly presses the uncapped lipstick back into the open palm of Rin's hand without waiting for a reply. "It'll wash off easily enough."

"OK," Rin hears himself say, then, over the deafening roar in his ears. "Yeah. All right, then."

"All right."

Haru leans in, then, somewhat awkwardly bracing himself on the headboard behind Rin's head (in order not to smudge any of the flowers on Rin's rapidly expanding and contracting chest). He's close enough to kiss now — so that's what Rin does, first, while he attempts to gather enough courage to draw back and shakily press the unblemished tip of the lipstick down over the little 'v' of Haru's upper lip.

In the end, Rin thinks he manages to pull it off surprisingly well: there's a perfectly round little beacon of foreign colour right at the centre of Haru's mouth, now. And _he_ 's the one who put it there.

The tip of Haru's tongue immediately sneaks out from between his lips to investigate the result the second Rin moves his hand away for a better look, of course. "It doesn't really taste of anything," He divulges eventually, sounding endearingly solemn about the entire thing. "It's just a bit waxy."

Rin decides to take that as his cue to finish the rest of the job. Haru cooperatively holds still for him, lips parted slightly — and enviably loose and pliant (in a way Rin is absolutely certain he wouldn't have been capable of himself, if the tables had been turned). It's surprisingly easy, that way, to semi-confidently apply a thin layer of _'Insatiable Ivory'_ all over the previously unpainted parts of Haru's mouth.

"It's too bad the eyeliner isn't your colour," Rin decides, when he's done (way too soon). "It _does_ look good on you. It kind of makes you look like you wandered off of the set of a modelling shoot, I guess."

Haru smiles at him, then — and it's one of those breathtaking, sincere little ones that never fails to make Rin feel like he's 12 years old all over again (and even his grandmother, of all people, can tell how big of a crush he's nursing). "Does that mean I can kiss you with it?"

Well. They've come this far, right?

"Knock yourself out."

But Haru doesn't go for Rin's mouth, like Rin'd been expecting him to — he aims right for the sensitive little patch of skin underneath Rin's chin, instead. Rin instinctively tilts his head back further into the pillow behind him, and doesn't even _attempt_ to swallow the low groan that escapes him when Haru sets his sights on his Adam's apple next.

It sounds impossible, but he'd **_swear_** Haru's lips feel even better on his throat than usual: the waxy substance of the lipstick seems to help them glide more easily across his skin than saliva alone would, and the knowledge that each kiss is bound to leave a noticeable trail of colour in its wake is enough to make him feel a little light-headed.

Haru lingers there, for a long while, seemingly content with simply getting to breathe in Rin's scent and letting his hot exhales fan out across Rin's skin like a caress. Rin soon forgets all about how he isn't supposed to distract Haru, the fingers of his left hand flying up to bury themselves into Haru's hair while his right makes itself at home on the back of Haru's neck (and just _holds_ him as well as it can without actively constricting Haru's movements).

"... _Rin_."

A while ago, Rin'd probably still have pegged it as an admonition — fuelled by his own insecurities, no doubt — but he's able to recognise it for what it really is, now. He leaves his hands exactly where they are, and pointedly asks Haru: "Don't you want to have a look?"

Much to Rin's (very pleasant) surprise, Haru actually takes the bait. He slowly lifts his head to meet Rin's openly anticipatory gaze, then finally allows his eyes to travel downwards. The effect is pretty much instantaneous: a sharp inhale seems to get itself stuck halfway down his throat, his eyes have gone endearingly wide (and there's a glazed sheen to them that wasn't there before), and his mouth has fallen open in a perfect little 'o' of surprise.

His lipstick's looking deliciously smudged, as well.

"They're kind of like hickeys," He whispers, then — and it almost sounds like he's acknowledging it to _himself_ , rather than simply pointing it out it to Rin. "Fading ones, though. The colour's too light for fresh ones, I think."

Rin fondly reaches out to thumb a particularly noticeable smudge near the corner of Haru's mouth. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? It was never about make-up _or_ cherry blossoms for you," He gathers, doing his best to keep his voice as neutral and inoffensive as possible. _No gloating._ "It's kind of obvious, in hindsight. I just didn't think I'd be the one to figure it out first."

Haru blinks down at him in undisguised astonishment, as if Rin had suddenly dropped a miniature bombshell on him. "How did you...?"

"Because I feel the same way," Rin tells him (surprisingly) steadily. It's going to be pretty fucking embarrassing to put the rest of it into words — and then actually speak those words _out loud_ — but he's more than willing to put up with it for Haru's sake. "Every time I look at you, I can't help but want to leave some kind of mark on you. It's not just you, y'know? It's just as frustrating to me — I mean, that we can't really do that sort of thing. I don't like it either, Haru."

Haru looks delightfully torn between shutting Rin up with a kiss and retreating to the relative safety of his earlier place against the wall. He hovers awkwardly somewhere in the middle until Rin makes the decision for him by insistently tugging him down.

The result is a messy, open-mouthed clash of teeth and tongues. Rin is panting harshly by the time Haru reluctantly pulls away to let him catch his breath.

"You could leave some on me _now,_ " Haru offers, albeit a little doubtfully, as he sits back to lean most of his weight against the wall. "If we stick to my thighs no one will ever know, and it should be healed before I fly back home."

It's a tempting offer, of course — but they both know it'd only _escalate exponentially_ by the time they're supposed to begin rooming together in Tokyo. "What about you?" Rin points out (in favour of dwelling on the slightly sticky film Haru's kiss had left all over his own lips). "I wouldn't be satisfied with such an unfair solution. Besides, don't you want everyone to **_see_** it?"

As if to proof Rin's point, Haru's eyes involuntarily flick towards the smudges on Rin's throat. "Your coach would have an aneurysm."

The snort Rin (just as involuntarily) lets out in response to Haru's deadpan declaration is embarrassingly loud. "That's just because he'd know right away that _you_ were the one who put it there," He points out. "He's just looking out for us in case we both end up _going places_ , you know? He actually gets how things are back in Japan. It's kind of sweet."

"If you say so."

"I do," Rin insists, reaching out to ruffle a disgruntled looking Haru's hair for good measure. "So let's just stick to the lipstick for now, OK?"

 

* * *

 

The eyeliner provides the finishing touch.

This particular shade is apparently called _'Blackened Cocoa' —_ but Rin's honestly feeling too desensitised by now to care about its name anymore. It's a very dark brown colour, not at all unlike the bark of a cherry blossom tree.

It also _sparkles_.

Haru fumbles adorably with the unfamiliar twist mechanism for a moment, but soon he's using it to draw bold lines across Rin's ribs and stomach like a professional — seamlessly connecting all of the lipstick flowers together to form an unmistakable whole. Rin doesn't exactly have the best vantage point to admire the finished effect, but he doesn't need to be able to see it to know the result is nothing short of **_breathtaking_**.

Haru leans back to scrutinise his work for a moment. Rin's just about to ask him if he's finally allowed to sit up now, when Haru suddenly dives back in and intently begins smudging out some of the darkest lines to give the whole thing an even more nuanced effect. His efforts leave the side of his thumb and the tip of his index finger covered in a coat of sparkly cocoa.

Rin lets him wipe them off — as well as he can without some hand-soap, anyhow — on the inside of his thigh without complaint. "Finished, then?"

Haru distractedly nods his assent, eyes still glued to Rin's chest and abdomen. He's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a way that _must_ be leaving the serrated edges of his incisors a lovely shade of pink.

"My eyes are up here, y'know?" Rin jokes, but quickly softens the blow by reaching out to cup the side of Haru's face. Then, on impulse, he adds: "You should take a picture. It'll last longer."

He is woefully unprepared for the way Haru practically _launches_ himself off of the bed in his haste to locate Rin's phone. "Are you _sure_ , Rin?"

Rin shrugs, 99.9% hot-headed bravado. "It's on my desk, I think. I left it to charge while we were out."

 

* * *

 

If Rin didn't know any better, he'd probably describe the manner in which Haru passes the phone over to him (in order to let him punch in the passcode) as bashful _—_ but there really isn't anything shy or timid about the way Haru's half-hard cock seems to be pointing directly at him, so 'bashful' quickly turns out to be a sorely inadequate choice.

Haru gives him a thoughtful once-over, then promptly motions for Rin to prop himself up against the wall. "The lighting's better that way."

Rin obliges him, shifting around until he's sitting cross-legged on the bed with his back pressed flat against the wall (for moral support). He's _very_ careful not to smudge any of Haru's meticulous work as he does so. "Is this OK?" He asks, suddenly feeling a little 'bashful' himself. But it's only _Haru_ , for crying out loud. They've even done this kind of thing before a couple of times _—_ and it's not like he's erect right now, either. "I don't really know what to do with my arms."

Haru seems to consider it for a while, then wordlessly reaches out to place one of Rin's hands down over the dark smudge he'd left on Rin's inner thigh earlier. "You can cover yourself with the other one," He decides, after a long pause (in which they both simply regarded each other). "If you absolutely must, Rin."

"You're not going to _show_ anyone, right?"

Haru looks a little torn about it, to be quite honest, but in the end he concedes: "Of course not."

"I don't really care, then," Rin decides on the spot, and pointedly adjusts himself _—_ until his flaccid length is resting more prominently on his hip (instead of its earlier position in between his legs). The pleased little smile it immediately draws out of Haru is more than worth the trouble. "Do your worst."

In the end, Haru goes about the entire snapshot business mercifully quickly. Rin's phone _—_ purchased at his favourite mall in Sydney, in celebration of a particularly good test result _—_ doesn't have the forced shutter noise on it that Haru's does, though, so there's no way to tell just how many pictures were taken in the short amount of time Haru diligently hovered over him. Rin will likely find out soon enough, though.

He's going to be expected to e-mail every single one of them to Haru later, after all.

Haru places the phone down on the headboard when he's done, then proceeds to unashamedly make himself comfortable in Rin's lap. "Thank you," He whispers, surprisingly heatedly, into the crook of Rin's neck and shoulder. "For letting me do all of this."

"It's not exactly a hardship, all right?" Rin allows, just as earnestly, as he tightly wraps Haru up in his arms. Their chests are pressed firmly together now, making a complete mess of Haru's drawing _and_ both of their torsos _—_ but Haru doesn't appear to be bothered by it at all, so Rin can't bring himself to care either. "You're allowed to ask for these things, Haru. I actually kind of **_like_** it when you do."

As expected, Haru doesn't reply _verbally_ _—_ but Rin can just about make out the grateful little nod Haru burrows into his shoulder, nonetheless.

He isn't sure just how long they sit there like that, really, but eventually the insistent hard-on nudging Rin's belly becomes too distracting for _either_ of them to continue ignoring it. Luckily, Haru lets himself be manoeuvred down to the mattress without any protest at all _—_ languidly stretching out on his back, before reaching out for Rin and dragging him in for a kiss.

Rin lets him set the pace, bracing himself on either side of Haru's biceps, and experimentally grinds their hips together as well as he can (without crushing his entire weight into Haru completely). It's a little awkward, and the lubricant they'd used earlier has dried up a long time ago, but Haru quickly rewards him for his efforts with an appreciative sigh.

"Again," Haru breathes against his lips, urgently scrabbling at Rin's shoulders as he arches his back in search for even more friction. "Do that again, Rin."

Rin wouldn't be able to refuse him anything, even if he'd wanted to. So, he does it again _—_ and again, and again, and again, and _again_... until Haru is panting underneath him in earnest, too far gone to be able to focus on swapping open-mouthed kisses with Rin any longer.

"Almost there?" Rin wants to know, as he purposefully rolls his hips again. He's almost fully hard again himself, now. It's starting to get a little distracting. "I don't want to be an ass _—_ but I don't think I can keep this up for much longer. You kind of wore me out today, y'know?"

Haru nods jerkily, gasping to catch his breath during their improvised little interlude. "Yeah," He easily admits. "I'm getting pretty close."

Encouraged, Rin smoothly scoots further down the bed _—_ until he's half-sitting, half-crouched over Haru's knees. "Hit me up with some lube, will you? If there's still anything in there."

It takes Haru an endearingly long moment to remember just _where_ they'd tossed the nearly drained bottle of lubricant in question, but he eventually manages to fulfil Rin's request without too much trouble. "Your chest's a total mess," Haru absent-mindedly informs him, when he's done. "It looks awful now."

Despite the relatively scathing nature of his words, Haru sure doesn't sound bothered about it at all. He actually sounds quite pleased with himself.

Rin gives the sticky liquid a moment to adjust to the temperature of his skin, and uses the convenient time this affords him to decide his next course of action. They're not in a hurry, are they? If Haru will let him, Rin would _very_ much like to draw this out just a little longer. "You look even worse," He retorts fondly. "Your mouth's all covered in _'Insatiable Ivory'_ , remember?"

Haru doesn't even bother to try and wipe it off _—_ so Rin _knows_ his good-natured teasing has been received well. "I'm pretty sure most of it's actually on your neck now, Rin."

Rin isn't about to dignify that with an answer, so he settles for wrapping the fingers of his right hand around Haru's rock hard erection. It twitches delightfully against Rin's palm, and even produces a tiny little drop of pre-cum when he gives it a firm squeeze.

It's just so _pretty_ , really. It's nice and heavy in Rin's hand, too. It fits perfectly _—_ when Rin closes his fingers around it to form a tunnel, only the vulnerable glans remains uncovered. Rin is absolutely certain he's never going to get tired of seeing Haru's flawless cock in this state.

Haru makes a whiny little noise in the back of his throat _—_ unapologetically urging Rin on, as if he knows exactly what Rin's thinking _—_ so Rin indulgently gives him a couple of appeasing strokes before removing his hand all together.

"Better?" Rin teases, thoroughly enjoying the way Haru can't seem to stop himself from bucking his hips in a bid to chase Rin's touch. "D'you mind if I keep you like this for a while?"

The tips of Haru's ears turn a satisfyingly deep shade of red, at that. He _did_ figure out what Rin was thinking of, then. "You _know_ I'm not good _—_ "

"That's fine!" Rin interrupts hastily, and hopes Haru can tell from the tone of his voice that he really _means_ it. "I know you've been hard for ages. It's all right if you can't warn me, OK? I just like doing this to you _—_ and **for** you, too."

Haru shoots him an unreadable look, then. "You'll tell me when...?"

"Yes," Rin assures him readily. "I won't draw it out _too_ long, Haru. Just a few more minutes, 's all."

Haru relents, with a great _whoosh_ of air, like they'd both known he would all along. "OK."

Rin shoots Haru an unrestrainedly grateful smile, then quickly rewards him for his cooperation by lightly running the backs of two slick fingers up and down Haru's length _—_ making sure to pay close attention to the prominent ridge at the underside of it. Haru's already shallow breathing stutters satisfyingly.

Rin smiles even wider. "Ready?"

Haru turns his face away, burying his nose into the makeshift refuge of the pillow beneath him as deeply as he can.

Then he nods.

Rin wraps his hand around Haru once more, and starts jerking him off _hard_. Haru quickly loses the battle with a low groan _—_ an involuntary, keening little thing _—_ and can't seem to manage to keep his hips on the bed at all anymore, either. Rin firmly pushes them back down with a flattened palm on Haru's abdomen (just above the dark patch of his pubic hair), and continues deliberately pumping Haru just the way he knows Haru likes it best: fast and firm, with a little twist of his wrist on the way up.

It isn't long until Haru is squeezing his eyes shut and hoarsely gasping Rin's name into the pillow.

Rin heeds the warning, and lets go.

"This is another thing we have in common, isn't it?" He absent-mindedly asks Haru, feeling rather embarrassingly out of breath himself. "I like it, too. Being able to focus on you without any distractions."

Haru unenthusiastically peers up at him, through the thick lashes of one blearily opened eye. It's pretty clear that he _wants_ to say something scornful, but what comes out instead is: "You're going to ruin me for anyone else, you know?"

Rin's mind goes absolutely blank _—_ just for one second _—_ before the significance of hearing a perfect echo of his own apprehension **_in Haru's voice_** suddenly slams into him like a great big wave crashing to shore. It hits him hard, and fast, and he never even saw it coming.

 _'Tell me more,'_ Rin wants to say, desperately, then. _'I need to hear you say you're just as crazy about me, Haru.'  
_

But he just can't bring himself to do it.

Not today, anyway.

Not yet.

So, he settles for an alarmingly wet-sounding, "I _didn't_ know that," and quietly follows it up with a much steadier: "I can be a real asshole sometimes, can't I...?"

Oblivious to Rin's inner turmoil, Haru merely scoffs. "I got used to it."

It would be so damn _easy_ to ask, _'And you love me anyway, right?' —_ but even those words get stuck to the roof of Rin's mouth. It's all right, though. Because Rin would need to be completely blind to miss the tranquil little smile making itself at home on the only visible corner of Haru's lips.

"Will you let me make it up to you?" Rin implores in a hushed whisper, suggestively curling his fingers around the feverishly hot skin of Haru's cock once more. "Satisfaction guaranteed, etcetera."

Haru's smile becomes just a tiny little bit more pronounced. "That's _so_ cheesy, Rin!" He declares, as unapologetic as ever. "How can you can say things like that with a straight face?"

"You're not even looking at my face, though," Rin points out, affectionately thumbing the sensitive slit at the very tip of the cock in his hand. "So, is that a _yes_?"

Haru actually lifts his nose out of the shelter of his pillow long enough to face Rin head-on, at that. "Yes."

Rin beams down at him. "Too bad we're expected back at the pool tonight. It'd sure have been nice to put whatever's still left of the lube to even better use, right?"

The way Haru's pupils noticeably dilate even further at the mere idea is extremely flattering, to say the least. Rin can't stop himself from indulgently given him a sharp squeeze, just for that unexpected little ego-boost.

" _Rin_."

"Ready for round two, then?" Rin guesses, and promptly picks up the pace again without waiting for an answer. "We can always stop by the drugstore again tomorrow, anyway."

This time, Haru actually manages to keep his hips on the mattress by himself _—_ leaving Rin's unoccupied hand free to wander up and down his stomach (and make an even bigger mess of it), occasionally dipping down further south to soothingly palm his tense balls.

He lasts a little longer, too. Rin doesn't feel the need to withdraw until Haru has begun steadily gasping in time with the rhythm of his strokes _—_ and even then, he only removes his hands for the briefest of moments before diving back in.

"Just a little longer, OK?"

Haru doesn't appear to have heard him at all, but that's all right. As long as Haru is distracted, Rin can freely admire the faint sheen of sweat currently making his skin glow underneath the harsh light of the ceiling lamp.

How in the world did Rin manage to get **_so damn lucky_** _..._?

No, really. Nanase Haruka is so impossibly far out of Rin's league _—_ and yet, here he is, allowing Rin to keep him teetering on the brink for as long as he fucking pleases.

Rin decides, then: it's time to push Haru over the edge. He abruptly slows the movement of his hand down, to a far less demanding pace _—_ something gentle, unhurried and unmistakably tender. Haru immediately begins to squirm, as if he's simultaneously trying to get away from Rin's touch _and_ push up into it at the same time.

His eyes are open wide, now, and firmly locked on Rin's.

"Go ahead," Rin prompts, albeit in an disconcertingly small voice. "I've had my fill for today."

Haru's heated gaze doesn't waver _—_ not even for a second _—_ as Rin's hand on his cock slowly but surely takes him apart. Rin can practically _feel_ the intensity of it on his skin like a tangible, corporal presence. He'd like to imagine that it's a warm, and comforting, thing.

In the end, it only takes a little more coaxing for Haru to reach his well-deserved climax. It seems to hit him without any warning or build-up at all, as if his body can't be bothered with any of those things anymore, and leaves _both_ of them gasping for air. Rin takes a chance, and self-indulgently strokes him through each powerful spurt _—_ it starts out like nothing more than a faint trickle, not even enough for it to really dribble down over Rin's knuckles yet, but by the second spasm Haru's coming hard enough for it to hit his own belly button.

Not bad at all, for their second round of the day.

Rin continues gently stroking and petting Haru until he inevitably begins to soften in the palm of Rin's hand. "Catnap?" He asks, for want of anything better to say. "It looked pretty intense."

Even as worn out as he is, Haru still manages to reach an admirably steady hand out to softly caress Rin's cheek. "Aren't you still hard, though?"

"I'm not bothered," Rin tells him honestly, instinctively leaning into Haru's touch. It shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes for his semi-hard on to disappear on its own, after all. They're _both_ worn out. "But you did promise to help me clean up, I guess _._ How about a shower instead, then?"

As expected, Haru immediately perks up at that. Rin lets himself be manhandled out of his comfortable perch on top of Haru's knees _—_ and then, a second later, completely off of the bed all together _—_ without protest, chuckling underneath his breath at the incredibly entertaining sight in front of him.

Because there Haru is, in all of his naked glory (with his chest still completely covered in an odd mixture of lipstick and semen), frowning thunderously at the western-style lock on Rin's bedroom door.

They've _really_ come full circle now, haven't they?

 

**Author's Note:**

> The changeroom in this fic is based on a very real one in a different location + (second hand) personal experience. Let's just say I'm pretty sure they play music in there for a reason.
> 
> If you're confused about the set-up, this picture will hopefully help a little: http://all-the-pools.tumblr.com/post/121757201562 Each stall has TWO doors: you enter from one side, and exit on the other. The lockers have keypads so swimmers can't lose their key in the depths of the 50M pool (and they automatically reset after each use, so you can choose the code yourself). I tried to describe it as well as I could, but in hindsight I could've done a better job. Sorry about that, guys.
> 
> Lastly, the lipstick & eyeliner Haru uses are based on actual products by Estée Lauder. You can easily Google the names to see what each shade looks like! If you're curious, and all. I'm still wondering what's so _ivory_ about Insatiable Ivory.
> 
> I REALLY LOVE COMMENTS. HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE COMMENTS? BECAUSE I SURE DO LOVE COMMENTS.
> 
> P.S. Much love to everyone who listened to me whinge about this fic on Twitter, IRC & Skype! TheGirlOnFandoms, in particular — without whom this would never have had a proper ending. ;)


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